meant to be
by anonymous.mystery95
Summary: A chance encounter leads them to meet. He won't stay away and she doesn't have the strength to push. He's lethal and she doesn't care. She's ordinary and he finds it alluring. He knows her identity...she doesn't know his.
1. part i

Rule one of being a super-villain is the need for unpredictability.

It is higher than the need for revenge or power or a desire of wealth or whichever motivation drives a person to turn against the world. Because there is no point in having those things in abundance when you are arrested and locked up simply because your opponents could preempt your movements and are in place to stop you before you could live your life of crime and indulgence.

There were a few exceptions to the rule, there always are. But those individuals, so strong and powerful that the Flash and the force of the CCPD could do is watch in frustration as they escaped... they weren't Vibe.

And he liked his unpredictability, especially when the world around him was the opposite of that. Boring, predictable, no real challenge at all. But then, the benefit of vibing the future would mean that even the most unpredictable people weren't all that special to him.

And that's why he is walking through the streets in downtown Central City, strolling through abandoned roads and darkened alleyways, whistling to himself. He pities any fool who would try and attack him, especially on such a gloriously gloomy night, thunder crackling above, threatening the city with torrential rain.

There are screams for help that will never be answered, calls of anguish and prayers that will go unheard. It is the type of night to bring a smile to his face, Vibe stopping for a moment, taking in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

He doesn't mean to stumble across her, the small woman pinned on the side of an alleyway, two thugs approaching her. He sees the glint of a knife reflecting in the streetlight, sees the fear on her face as she clutches the brick wall behind her. She pleads fruitlessly, her purse still in her hand.

They are getting closer and her eyelids flutter closed, resignation painted across her face. Vibe can't help but think it's not a good look. "I'm sure you fellas have better places to be." He steps out from the entrance, from the shadows he was hiding in and into plain view. They pause, turning away from the petite woman and to him. The chuckle that leaves their lips grates on his mind.

A better person would have given them the chance to leave. He isn't a better person. With a flick of a finger, the closest one is blasted away, landing yards away. They all wince at his landing, bones were _definitely_ broken.

The other man drops the knife by their feet, backing away slowly, palms open and up in surrender. The stench of his fear fills the area, the whimpering, the pleas for mercy, for forgiveness go unheard. He joins his friend, the pair of them unconscious.

"Thank you," she stutters out, relief flooding her expression. It takes three seconds for that to disappear, the lady scanning over him, lingering at the insignia on his chest, the goggles that have become somewhat iconic. "Oh," she breathes. "It's _you."_

He chuckles, pride filling his voice. "So I guess you've heard of me. Nice to know."

"Vibe," she stutters. "You - you're Vibe. Why did you save me?" He can almost hear the deep gulp she took, her saliva becoming a rock in her throat, lodged and hard to swallow.

"Well," he drawls. "You were kinda cute. And I thought, come one Vibe, you have to give back to the city that gave you _so so much._ " They can both hear the sarcasm in his voice, the bitterness. "You should have given them your bag." She glances at her hand, the strap of her purse still wrapped around her wrist. "It could have given you time to run instead of getting yourself stuck."

"What do you want from me?" Her voice becomes more shrill as he approaches her, fingers digging into the brick wall again. She steals a glance at the end of the alley, the two bodies still unmoving. He laughs to himself, she's stuck between a rock and a hard place and she is so unsure of what to do. "I don't have much money or status so I don't really have much to offer." She holds out her purse. _Learns fast,_ he thinks. But he shakes his head.

"Give me a name, sugar." She wrinkles her nose at the nickname and he smirks. "Or better yet, a kiss." He winks at her, cursing the goggles he wore - she wouldn't see the wink. But neither would she see the way he blatantly checks her out, scanning slowly from her legs, long and slender and he can imagine them wrapped around his waist. She really is small, and the doctor's coat seems to drown her. By the time he reaches her face there is a scared look on her expression and he fears that maybe he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was.

"What - what do you really want from me?" Her voice trembles as she grounds the words out. He steps closer to her, eyes on her chest as her breathing becomes more laboured.

He is close, too close for her comfort, his face the only thing she can see. He puts one hand by her head, leaning forward until there is a hairbreadth between them. She can feel him with every breath. His laughter has her closing her eyes. "Nothing you won't give," he whispers, hot breath against her ear. She shudders at the sensation.

And when she opens her eyes she is alone.

* * *

She can feel his eyes on her, stalking her.

He has for months, not that she ever caught sight of him. But she could feel his gaze on her, following her from work to her home. Sometimes she would catch a bright blue in the corner of her eye, but whenever she would turn it would be gone. He would be gone.

The first thing she had done was research him, devouring everything she could get her hands upon. And his list of crimes was lengthy, the reports all speaking of the danger that followed him like a shadow. They spoke of Gypsy, his first partner. They had done petty crimes together, just enough to live comfortably, but then a robbery went wrong, the lady dying at the scene. Reports on this era were sparse and undetailed, it was only when the Rogues took him under their wing that the crimes increased in size and magnitude and body count. But he had left them - there were rumours he wanted more of the profit, rumours that he was engaged in a relationship with Golden Glider that had broken up messily. No reporter could be sure, but all they agreed on was that they had moulded him into a ruthless killer, and he revelled in it.

It had made her afraid, at the beginning. This calculating criminal following her movements, knowing her place of employment, her residence. But nothing happened, he didn't approach her, didn't attack her. And slowly the feelings of trepidation melted away, curiosity taking its place.

A curiosity she pushes to the side one Friday night, Caitlin slipping into a dress and heels, smiling at her reflection before going downstairs to be picked up by her date.

His name was Julian Albert, British, intelligent... and utterly boring.

She hated the feeling; he was a sweet man, a bit rough on the edges, but when they found a topic they could both enjoy she watched his face light up, his voice eager and countenance changing entirely. She could feel it lift her own spirits, the conversation flowing more easily over steak. But she just couldn't see herself falling for him, couldn't see it developing into anything more than a really good friendship. It had been set-up by Iris, Julian a colleague of her fiance Eddie. Her friend pouted at the idea of Caitlin going alone to the wedding, playing on her guilt until she agreed to the blind date.

She should have known it wouldn't turn out in any way other than this.

They separate at the restaurant, Caitlin thanking him for a wonderful time, promising him that she would make her own way back home. He wasn't sure that was the best idea, but he didn't want to push it.

She appreciates the concern, but it was a beautiful summer night and she wants to enjoy the walk. Caitlin is two blocks away from her home when she hears a scuffle down an alley, the same one she was attacked in all those months ago.

She is sure she knows what the noise is, but she can't leave until she is certain, the brunette entering the narrow area, walking down, further into it. And there is no one here.

She jumps when she hears a noise behind her, Caitlin spinning on her heels, Vibe standing at the entrance, blocking her.

A small part of her wants to be strong, to face up against him. But his mouth shows no hints of amusement, barely giving her a second glance in her dress and heels.

"Doctor Caitlin Snow," he recites as though it were his own resume and not evidence he had researched her. "Two PhD's, a doctorate, but with the world at her feet she decides to leave her job and become a doctor in a _really_ horrible part of the city." His voice is monotonous, though a sneer is spread across his lips. And for the first time since their initial encounter she feels afraid of him. She looks around, desperate to find something to defend herself with. And when she fails she backs away, deeper into the alley. It's not the best idea, not when he follows her, not when he guides her like sheep to the slaughter, Caitlin jumping as she feels the roughness of the brick against her back.

"Do you know what you want from me now?" Her voice is shaky and he stills, Vibe forcing his shoulders down. His steps towards her are less intimidating, but her breath still hitches when he is right in front of her.

"How was your date?"

Those words startle her, and the accusation of jealousy is on the tip of her tongue. "What?"

"Your date," he repeats, false casualness in his tone, taking another step closer. They are touching now and she's glad that she doesn't have to crane her head up at him when wearing her heels. "Did you like Harry Potter?"

"He looks more like Draco," she fires back without thinking. "And he was nice."

Caitlin doesn't expect those words to elicit a smile from Vibe, but it does. "Nice?" She can hear the laughter in his voice and she is affronted at it.

"What's wrong with - _oh_." The gasp cuts her off, Vibe leaning into her, sparks through her body at the contact.

"Because you don't want nice, do you? You want a thrill in your life, someone different from everyone you've been with before. More wild, more reckless. You just want to be free." His voice is rough and impassioned, and Caitlin can feel heat flood her body at the sound of it, a yearning she refused to acknowledge, a yearning for him, overcoming her.

His hand grabs a hold of her waist, tugging her away from the wall and against him, the other glides from the top of her dress to the side of her neck, fingers dancing across her exposed skin. She can feel her eyelids becoming heavy, knows that they are fluttering shut from the touch of a criminal. But she can't resist the pull he has over her, the way he drugs her senses and seduces her away from sanity and logical reasoning. Because being here, with him, that wasn't logical at all. "Who - who are you?"

He presses against her more firmly. She hates that it sends a tremble down her back, and not necessarily from fear. That had disappeared a long time ago.

"Vibe." She melts at his touch, so delicate from hands she knows are so deadly. He knows that isn't what she was asking, but it was the only thing he would give her. The hand that had been on her neck slides further up, following the curve of her neck and tangling his fingers in her hair. He cups the back of her head, a whine torn from her lips as his grip on her locks tightens.

She is so vulnerable here like this, and he had never been so tempted in his life. He leans down, a shallow gasp right beside his ear as he kisses the exposed skin of her shoulder. And he doesn't stop, soft, gentle teasing against her skin as he slowly kisses his way up the slope of her neck. The breath she takes is shaky, and he pauses for a moment to grin. "I know you've been following me Vibe."

He nips at her skin and she whimpers. "I haven't really been hiding it."

She forces out the next words, determined to make them steady. "Why me?"

"You're beautiful, smart..." Her breath hitches at his words, at his touch. His lips skim over her neck, and her head tilts back instinctively, moving it to the side. He traces up her neck, skimming over her jaw line to the point of her chin. He steals a glance at her face, grinning as he catches sight of her, eyes squeezed shut and mouth opened. "Delectable."

She shuts her mouth quickly, but he can still feel the vibrations of the whimper she won't let out.

"Join me," he says it so casually, the suggestion she leave her life and friends and join him.

"What?" Her voice is husky, and he isn't sure if he is in over his head, Vibe pressing himself harder into her, Caitlin's hips jerking at the pressure, seeking something he desperately wants to give her.

He swears lowly against her skin, hand hard on her hip, holding her against the wall. "Join me, help me. We could rule the city - rule the world. Rule multiple worlds."

"And be a criminal?" She forces out a laugh. It quickly turns into a throaty moan as his fingers tug her harder against him. "You'd have to die first." Oh, he thinks. Feisty. "Anyway, how do I know I can trust you?"

He grins. "You don't."

* * *

The cold wind sends shivers across her body and she opens her eyes slowly, sight bleary as she looks around for him.

And once again, he was gone.

It happens again and, if Caitlin is honest to herself, she had been waiting for the next encounter, the next time she would catch sight of him. "Is this our meeting place or something, because I really think we could better?"

She cocks her hip, resting her hand on it, smirking as he emerges from the shadows of her favourite alleyway. "Aww," he coos. "Are you saying you want to see me more often?"

"Dream on," she scoffs, rolling her eyes at him. But she is sure her fondness seeps into her voice. "This is already enough."

He places a hand on his heart. "You wound me Caity, you really do." He brushes it off easily enough and she doesn't know whether anything she says could ever hurt him. "Okay fine, then who's that cute blonde friend of yours? She seems like she'd be okay dabbling in the grey areas of the law."

And it doesn't worry her that he knows she just left a lunch with Felicity. The thought doesn't even cross her mind. "You think I'm going to throw around my friends name like that? Yeah right."

He laughs, stopping right before her. "Is that jealousy I detect?" She doesn't answer him, knows he'd sense the lie. "Don't worry Caitlin," he purrs into her ear. "You're the only one I care about."

"You care about me?" she laughs, throws her head back before smiling at him. It's honesty is like a breath of fresh and he finds his own lips being tugged up, curling into his own smile in response.

"Of course." And there is is no doubt in his voice, no hesitation. And his words stay with her long after she leaves him alone in the alley, her heart stopping for a minute as she processes it. "You're mine."

* * *

Caitlin knows something is wrong the moment she enters her apartment.

The icy, night air is blowing from a window she knows she had closed this morning, the curtain billowing from the breeze. She reaches for the baseball bat she keeps by the door, holding it to her while she creeps through the apartment, gaze darting everywhere, invisible attackers in every corner, ready to attack her. She gets to the open window, shutting it closed.

A moan comes from behind her.

She almost hits Vibe with the bat, stopping herself inches away from his body. None of them notice the clank as it drops to the floor. "Vibe?" She asks quietly. It only then, now that the shock of him in her apartment fades, that she notices him, really notices him. He was clutching his side, the deep red liquid coating his bare hands, the moonlight shining through the cracks of her curtain, illuminating him. He looks pale and sickly. He looks like death.

There was sweat on his brow and his body was tensed up, breaths forcibly coming from his lungs, level but weak. "What happened?" She gasps, reaching out to him. She stops. She had never initiated the contact between them before, and although he came to her, she still didn't know how he would react.

"Please," He grits out through clenched teeth. "You're a doctor - please help me."

"You need a hospital!" she screeches, voice shrill in panic. "I'll call an ambulance." It is determined, Caitlin already moving to grab her mobile.

"No!" He reaches out his hand, grabbing her bicep, smearing blood on her. "The moment they see me they'll call the police, I'll get arrested. I need _you_."

There is truth to his words and she hates it, shoulders falling in resignation to reality. She sighs. "Alright, let's get you on my bed, you shouldn't be standing."

"I knew you'd try and get me there eventually," he jokes weakly, a poor smile on his face, more gritted teeth than anything else, as he leans into her, arms around him for support.

"Trust me, if I wanted you in my bed you would have been in it already," she retorts, grunting at the extra weight. And she guides him through her hallway, the bedroom door ajar. She kicks it open, dragging him over there. He collapses against it, laying down on it as she abandons him, running around her apartment for her first aid kit and other necessary instruments. "By the way," she shouts from her en-suite, "you most definitely owe me new sheets. A damn good thread-count too."

She returns to him, an angel bathed in the darkness of night, medical supplies and drugs in her arms. They are abandoned on the chair she had beside her bedroom window, Caitlin leaning over his body, scissors in her hands as she cuts open his shirt into shreds, wincing as she she sees the bullet wound in his side.

A low whistle leaves her mouth as she examines his side. There was no more blood pouring out from the wound, and she assumes he had been putting pressure on it since he was shot, given the way he had been standing when she arrived. "Okay, so good news - it went through cleanly." She takes his pulse, seconds ticking by as she counted the beats. "It appears to be superficial, hasn't hit anything vital, you're pulse isn't dangerously low and there is no internal bleeding." He is thankful for the clinical way she was, taking strength in her professionalism, needing it because he was lost on his own. "Bad news, I'm probably going to have to sow the wound shut."

She pulls away from him, and when she finally returns to his line of sight she is wearing gloves, a swab in her hand as she cleans skin on his forearm near the inside of his elbow. "Do I want to know?"

"Morphine," she replies, turning around to prepare the needle.

"Are you even allowed to have morphine lying around?" He chuckles through his clenched teeth. "Oooh, naughty girl."

She pauses, eyebrows raised. "Do you want it or not?" He nods, hissing as pain shoots down his side. "Okay, I'm going to apologise now." He doesn't flinch as she sticks the needle in his arm, injecting the liquid into his system before pulling the needle out and discarding it in her bedside bin. "You'll feel the effects soon enough."

With shaky hands she cleans the wound, Caitlin pausing, eyes closed as she centres herself, a deep inhale through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. She takes a few seconds, heart-rate calming. And she forces her hands steady and her mind clear from emotion, as she finishes her job.

She gets up, packing away her supplies, movements robotic as she disposes of her gloves, stripping off her shirt and throwing it away, blood staining the clothes. The breakdown in the bathroom was inevitable, Caitlin bracing herself on her vanity, body trembling with emotion. She looks up, her skin pale, light blue bra the only thing on her chest. And she can barely recognise herself, fear and pain the only thing that was visible on her expression. And there is an emptiness growing inside her, a coldness reaching inside her, extinguishing any warmth.

She leaves the bathroom, Caitlin picking up an old shirt, slipping it over her head as walks listlessly toward her bed. And she watches him lie there motionless on her bed and something cracks inside of her, shattering into fractures and scratching her insides, tearing her up. She had quelled her feelings while treating him, but now, having done all she could, forced to watch and wait - they overwhelmed her and she was helpless to stop the flood.

"Don't you dare die on me okay?" It is only now that she allows herself to cry, cheeks wet with tears, words blubbering out of her mouth. "You can't leave me okay, you're not allowed to. You gotta live Vibe." An exhausted Caitlin slips onto the bed beside him, eyes heavy, heart heavier. In a moment of weakness she slips her hand into his, drawing strength from the weak pulse, from the warmth he still emitted.

He was still alive,

and she could only hope that when she awoke he would remain that way.

* * *

He wakes up in an unfamiliar room, the light shining out from the open curtain. Vibe sits up, hissing at the pain in his side. The night comes back to him in fragments, and he looks to his left, the curled up figure of Caitlin Snow by his side, holding onto something. His fingers. She had interlaced their fingers and oh, he feels his heart jump a little at that. He takes the time to appreciate her, the way she took care of him, cried over him, slept beside him. She had dark bags underneath her eyes, and there were still traces of the tears she had shed over him. But god, did she look beautiful. He moves her gently, upset that he had to pull away from her hold on him. She whimpers softly at the movement, and he stills, fearful that he had awoken her. But she rolls over, hand searching for something she wouldn't find. He picks up her phone, switches off her alarm and makes a call.

* * *

She wakes up.

She wakes up alone.

One glance at the clock is all that is needed for her to tumble out of bed, panicked. She was late for work, so badly late. She is picking up her mobile, running around her room for a change of clothes. The receptionist, Alice, picks up on the second ring, Caitlin impatiently listening to the spiel before getting the chance to speak. "Hey Alice," and god, her voice was rough from sleep. She holds the phone between her ear and shoulder, Caitlin struggling to get her feet in her pants while maintaining the conversation. "I'm so sorry I'm late, I'll be there in an hour, I promise. Can you get Harry to cover my patients until I'm -"

She is cut off by Alice, a smile in her voice. "Doctor Snow, you're not coming in today." That was a surprise, Caitlin stumbling in her attempts to get her other foot in the hole of her pants, grunting as she slams her hip into the side of her bed. "You alright Snow?"

"I'm fine," she replies, rubbing her sore hip. "What do you mean I'm not coming in today?"

"Yeah," Alice chuckles. "Your boyfriend called in sick for you. Said you could barely sleep last night and he was afraid you'd still go to work even in your condition. You must have been out cold to miss that, I wouldn't describe him as quiet."

Caitlin sighs, it was midday already and really, going to work at this time would be pointless. "Alright," she grumbles.

"I told him you need chicken soup." Caitlin rolls her eyes, already bracing herself for Alice's response. She swears, at times, the woman is physic. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, you need fluids and bed rest." She wants to laugh at the suggestion, but a day off does sound nice. After ending the call she does look longingly at her bed.

She blinks.

Her bed.

Sighing she balls up her blankets and sheets, all stained with his blood and collects her bloodied shirt from her bathroom floor. To wash or throw away? Examining the damage done to it there was only possible option. One stuffed garbage bag later and Caitlin was washing her hands, typing a reminder for herself to buy some more over the weekend.

She doesn't leave her apartment, feels guilty for taking sick leave when she isn't actually ill, too guilty to spend it out shopping in public. And so she stays home, changing from the work clothes she had hurriedly put on earlier into her warmest pyjamas that chilly winter day, lounging around, scrolling through her Netflix account while lying on her couch before settling on a Marvel marathon.

Halfway through Ironman there is a knock on her door, Caitlin padding toward it in her socks and pyjamas, peeking through the hole to see a delivery man. She frowns to herself - she hadn't ordered anything in quite some time. But he is persistent and, sighing to herself, she opens the door ready to direct him to the right apartment. But he is at the right place, the package for her, a gift - he tells her - from a Victor Ibe.

She thanks him, closing the door on the friendly man, brows furrowing as she tries to think of who it could be. It strikes her after a minute, but what could Vibe possibly be sending her. Scissors in hand, she runs the blade across the seams of the package, the duct tape ripping, allowing her to open it.

Laughter fills her lounge room.

It was bed sheets and blankets.

(And the thread-count was incredible.)

* * *

A few days pass since The Incident, as Caitlin had come to refer to it in her mind. She hadn't spoken to him, hadn't seen him, hadn't felt his gaze on her. He had become a ghost and she wished that he would say hello, would tell her how he was doing. Where he was getting his morphine from, because the pain he would be in otherwise...

She flinches at the idea he may have another doctor, that she was just convenient. That he didn't really care.

The days are long and she is happy to get to her apartment, a plan of takeaway and a good movie the only thing occupying her mind. But the moment she enters her apartment she finds herself pinned to the door, a mouth, hot and wet and needy on her neck, teeth scraping over her pulse point. Her fingers find the back of his head, tugging at his hair, pulling him away slightly so that she could get a glimpse of his face. Caitlin relaxes when she catches sight of those familiar goggles and smirk. She had known deep down it was him, it couldn't be anyone else, but the confirmation allowed her peace of mind, a smile on her mouth as she drinks in the sight of him alive. And here. With her.

His hair slides through her fingers, Vibe ducking his head to return to her neck, lavishing upon it bites and licks. "I couldn't stay away Caitlin," he growls into her ear, and he finds her weakness, the spot behind her ear that leaves her weak-kneed and gasping.

She pulls away, slipping out of his hold, body already yearning to feel his warmth against her, to have his weight against her, to have him touching her again. The heels are kicked off her feet, and she saunters toward her room, hips swinging, Caitlin reaching up, pulling her hair out of the ponytail. When she is halfway through the room she looks over her shoulder, curiosity over what Vibe was doing winning over her determination to not look back at him. She is teasing him, and there is a thrill down her spine that he stands where she left him, drinking it all in. "I've just got to change from my work-clothes." It is only when she reaches her bedroom door that she adds with a grin, "you can come and help if you like."

She doesn't hear him move, but the moment she steps into her bedroom she feels him behind her, Vibe tugging her firmly against his chest, the lack of heels giving them a slight height difference. And she lets him take over, relishing in the feeling of his mouth latching onto her neck again, determined to bruise her all over again, pulling out sounds from her lips she didn't think she could make. The gasp is shallow as she feels his hands on her stomach, deftly untying the buttons of her blouse. But he moves slowly, too slowly, Vibe exploring the skin revealed with his fingers, sparks erupting throughout her body at the touch, his hands spanning her hips, slipping underneath the material to the small of her back, dragging a knuckle heavily up her spine. It has her arching into the air, and she needs an anchor because she is drowning in all these feelings. She finds one in Vibe, her hands lifting up, fingers tangling themselves in his hair, holding him firmly against her. The strap of his goggles drives her insane, hindering her ability to run her digits through his locks, and she itches to remove them. But she can't, the unspoken rule between them still present, even now, especially now. And so she makes herself content with what she can have, Vibe nibbling down her neck, hindered by the shirt she wishes he would pull off of her already, Caitlin leaning her head against his shoulder.

He chuckles lowly, her hands urging him on. And he does eventually resume unbuttoning her shirt, pausing to skim over the newly revealed flesh underneath her breast and Caitlin was left struggling to breathe, whining softly at the feather-light touch, desperate for something more. And finally, _finally_ , he undoes her last few buttons, Caitlin lowering her hands so he could pull the offending material off her body. "Touch me," she orders, she pleads.

The moan that leaves her is low and wanton and she thinks she should feel dirty because nothing this good could actually be so. Vibe pulls his face away from her shoulder, lifting it up so he could enjoy this, could see her expressive face, so he could hear her noises more clearly, so he could know just what would drive her mad. There is a breast in each hand, touch soft at first, leasing her through the black lace bra she was wearing, still wearing. It has her squeezing her eyes shut in euphoria, Caitlin biting down on her bottom lip to stop the noises from leaving her mouth. But then his touch becomes firmer, fingers pinching her nipples, twisting it. He rests his cheek on the side of her head, his hot breath against the back of her ear enough to have her mewling in response, her inhales laboured as he continues to tease her. Her body shifts in response, unable to stay still. And neither can Vibe. Caitlin feels his erection against her ass, the woman grinding against it, accidentally at first, but he growls in her ears, one hand dropping to her hip. And he guides her movements, slowly, deliberately, his own body thrusting against her. And then she simply can't stand it anymore.

She turns around in his arms, moving to kiss him. But she gets his cheek, Vibe turning his head at the last moment. And oh, she thinks. Another rule. But she makes do, lips following the line of his jaw, down the slope of his neck, rough and eager. She bites lightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and a litany of Spanish and English garbled together leave his mouth. The sound of her zipper being drawn down echoes in the room, over the pants and moans of both people, and she feels her skirt slide down her legs, Caitlin stepping out of it, Vibe following her forward, closer to the bed. She notices the clothing differences, her in her lingerie and Vibe without a scrap of clothing removed.

"Please." Her voice cracks but she feels no shame, not when his hands are kneading her ass, worshipping her. And gosh, it had been so long since she had let someone do this to her. "Let me touch you. I just - I want to touch you." And how is he supposed to reject that?

She peels his shirt off slowly, Vibe reluctant to let go of her, Caitlin unwilling to force him. But she gets it off him eventually, eyes greedily soaking him in, hands sliding over his exposed skin, up his torso, over his arms, lingering over his biceps. And she steals a glance at his face, her eyes black with lust, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip so much that it's swollen.

His hands finding the back of her thighs, lifting her up, legs automatically wrapping themselves around his waist. He walks them to the bed, dropping her unceremoniously on the bed, Vibe pulling down his pants and toeing off his shoes and socks. She is on her back, resting on her elbows and they don't break eye contact, Caitlin licking her lips at the sight of him shirtless and in his boxers.

The chuckle echoes in her room, and it fills her with delight to see the smile on his face, Vibe crawling on the bed to her. "I think someone is wearing more clothes than me." And she smiles, Caitlin pulling herself up to a sitting position, arms at her back. But she struggles with the clasp of her bra, struggles to keep her eyes open when he pulls one of her legs towards him, fingers massaging her calf, sliding up to her knee and then back down. It has her parting her legs easily, fingers finally unbuckling the clasp, the black lace thrown somewhere to the side.

"Happy?" It's a breathy moan, her head tilting back, leaning against her headboard as she watches him through hooded eyes, Vibe working her other leg, creeping higher and higher until he was touching her outer thigh and inner thigh.

He lifts his head and she swears he is looking her in the eyes. She doesn't realise that he's stopped massaging her skin, only aware that he had a hand on each of her legs and that she was sure she couldn't breathe anymore. A scream leaves her when he pulls her closer to him, and there will be bruises on her thighs from the tight grip he had. But she doesn't care, not when she is closer, not when he moves one hand to her back lifting her up so they were both upright, his knees in between her legs. She is so close to him, can see the strands of hair that escaped the straps of his goggles falling across his lenses, can see the five o'clock shadow forming on his chin. And she wants to know how it would feel across her, Caitlin sucking on her bottom lip at the thought. And the action distracts him, Vibe's gaze dropping from her eyes to her mouth, to her lips pink and so tempting. But he can't give in to temptation, not yet.

He lowers her slowly, Caitlin lying on the bed, hands grabbing her sheets as anchors, knees bent and separated. He looks at her underwear, contemplating how he would take them off. She considers scolding him as she feels him rip the material at one side, but she bites back the words, hips lifting as she feels the cool air brush against the bare skin of her centre, Vibe removing the material, sliding it easily off her other leg. She isn't exposed for long, his hand covering her, his fingers running across the seams of her lips, slipping between her folds. He leans forward, spurred on by her gasps and groans, mouth latching onto her breast, sucking on the tip of her nipples until she becomes an incoherent mess, nails finding purchase on his shoulder blades, digging into him so hard he's sure he's bleeding. But he doesn't really care.

It is then she feels it, the light vibrations emitted from his fingers, right over her clit. She keens at the sensation, a scream torn from her mouth as he continues the assault, mouth still sucking on her breast, teeth teasing her skin. "Vibe," she moans, once and then again, her nails dragging up his back, looking for purchase somewhere and finding it in his hair. She may just love his long locks. "I'm so close, Vibe, please." It comes a mantra, repeated over and over.

And so he stops, stops his mouth, stops his powers.

"Don't you dare." she hisses, desperation and need soaking her tone. "Damn it Vibe." He quirks a grin at her, his fingers sliding through her folds and into her entrance, digits sliding inside her easily, Caitlin already so wet. She was on the edge and the slightest touch makes her fall, her legs tightening around his torso and she feels relief roll through her body.

He leans up, a toothy grin on his face as he looks down her, sweaty and satiated, a weak smile on her face. But her energy returns, smile shifting into something more demure.

"Just let me, please." And he is fast learning that's a weakness, her hand sliding down his body, Caitlin pulling his underwear down and stroking him. His bite is strong on her shoulder, attempts to muffle his groans failing somewhat, the vibrations felt against her skin, empowering her. "Cait-lin," he stutters.

And she smiles at him. Damn, he thinks, she is beautiful and he is screwed. She strokes him, gently pushes him to the very edge of the cliff and then over it, her name on his tongue as he falls.

He collapses beside her, a breathless laugh leaving him as he tries to build himself together after that. He watches her, Caitlin on her back, eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her face.

"I should go clean up," he mutters, slinking into her en-suite, emerging with his boxers on, Vibe picking up his shirt and pants, dressing himself. But when he looks back at her, she is considerably more unsettled. "What is it?"

"You're - you're not involved with anybody else, are you?"

He laughs, rich and vibrant, and she isn't sure how she should be feeling about it. "A little late to be asking that isn't it?"

"Well, in case. For next time." She says it so simply, so sure that there would be a next time. "I won't be the other woman."

"What makes you think that this was just a one-time thing?" He smirks. "What if I was just thanking you for saving my life before?"

She stills, as if it were the first time the idea had crossed her mind. "Oh." It is soft, unsure, and he is sighing softly to himself, cursing the feeling of guilt that had risen up inside him.

"Caitlin," he starts. "Caity." The nickname has her lifting up her head, uncertainty swimming in her gaze. He swears lowly. He sits down beside her fully clothed, Caitlin very much not. "I was just teasing you."

"It's not funny," she grumbles softly, curling in on herself. "How would you like it if I started things up with Julian again?"

And he wouldn't admit it, but there was a ball of anger and jealousy and possessiveness rolling around inside him at the very thought. It's a miracle she couldn't see it on his face. "That would never happen."

"Really?" she questions. "Because yeah, he was boring. But I'm sure he is kinky as hell, and I mean, imagine that accent in your ear, whispering all these th-"

She squeals as she finds herself on her back, arms pinned above her head as his body hovers over her. "It won't happen because I'd kill him first," he growls and all he can see is red. He misses the small tremour down her spine, how her breath catches. "You're mine Caitlin. _Mine_."

An eyebrow arches and he knows he has been played. "And now you see why I want to know whether you're involved." He gets off of her, and he hates his disposition to anger. If he wanted to he'd think about her words, think about what she was implying. He doesn't.

"I'm not."

She nods. "Good." The silence that follows becomes stifling, Vibe getting up, unable to stay on her bed. He hadn't done pillow talk in a long time and he didn't intend to start now.

He leans against her bedroom door, not quite ready to leave. "Good to know where you draw the line though, being a criminal is fine, just as long as I'm not cheating."

His laughter echoes throughout her room as she throws her pillow at him. And he slides out of her apartment window, leaving her satiated. Leaving her alone.

* * *

He disappears for weeks. No breaking into her house, no stalking her every move, no Vibe in the corner of her eye. Nothing.

She doesn't realise how much she had grown used to it, how much she'd come to enjoy his presence, until it had disappeared entirely for longer than a handful of days. And it leaves her disoriented and confused, her attitude shifting along the longer he stays away. Countless articles are read, news reports watching, Caitlin desperate for any mention of him, needing the knowledge that he was okay. And she sees nothing about Vibe.

She isn't sure that is a good thing.

It affects her, Caitlin becoming more snappish, more tense. And it becomes obvious, Iris taking her hand softly one night when they were getting drinks, concern leaking into her tone when she asks what is wrong. It strikes Caitlin with a ferocity, the explanation dying on her tongue. Vibe. She misses Vibe. And she is afraid that he would never come back, that he got everything he wanted from her and had moved onto a new target.

She shakes her head, at Iris, at the wayward thoughts in her mind that were making her stomach churn and heart stop. Throwing the drink back probably didn't help, the burn of the hard liquor causing Caitlin to start coughing. The soft hand on her back, Iris rubbing circles against her while she recovers and waves down the bartender.

Caitlin never answers the question, hoping that copious amounts of alcohol would help her forget. But she wakes up the next morning, head aching and the thoughts return, the seed planted inside her mind, taking root and growing until it drove her to distraction.

There is a concerted effort to improve her behaviour, Caitlin biting back remarks, and there is a sense of relief rippling through the small doctor's office. So she bottles it all up, her nerves and fear and anger unable to escape, the pressure building inside her.

It is a chilly night, Caitlin walking briskly home, hands fisted by her side. Gosh, she thinks. She should really sign up for some combat practice as a form of relief. She makes it home without any issue, Caitlin slamming the door behind her, locking it forcefully. It is only when she is in her apartment, her sanctuary, that she feels the tension roll off her in waves, tiredness taking its place.

She doesn't have the strength to make anything fancy, settling for a simple pasta dish for dinner. The water is salted, boiling on top of the stove, pasta soaking in it while she prepares the sauce.

The shift in the atmosphere is immediate, the hairs on the back of Caitlin's arms standing while she stirs the pasta sauce. His footsteps are noticeable, louder as he nears her. And she hates him, hates that her heart still skipped a beat because of him. He sneaks an arm around her waist, lips pressed against the side of her head. "Oh," she starts disinterested. "You _do_ remember where I live."

"I was planning a heist," Vibe says dismissively, as though she hadn't spent weeks wondering whether he was alive or dead or whether she was simply dead to him. "But now it's done."

"And let me guess," she starts drily. "You want to celebrate tonight?"

"Well yeah." She can _hear_ his grin, can feel it pressed against her temples as he presses closed mouthed kisses down her face.

And the anger comes back, simmering under the surface, red and hot. "Okay. Go on then, enjoy your night, don't let me ruin it." She says it tightly, but her emotions leak through, Vibe stopping in his actions.

It is then he takes her in, the rigid body in his hands, the clenched jaw underneath his mouth. She's angry, he realises, angry at him. And he concedes to himself that maybe he shouldn't have waited weeks to visit her, not after the night they had. It is then he realises her insecurity, and he hugs her closer in response. "Don't be like that," he whines and she rolls her eyes at him, pulling out of his hold as she continues to prepare her dinner. "Come on Caity," and she hates him, hates the nickname, hates the way it sends butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "I'll make it up to you I swear."

He apologises on his knees, Caitlin sitting on her kitchen bench, skirt bunched up around her waist, her underwear tucked in his pocket. He had brought her to orgasm twice already, Vibe's mouth against her, lapping at her until she's too sensitive and even then. He spells out his apology with his tongue and finds forgiveness in her touch, fingers clutching his head, pushing him closer to where she needs him, name ground out of clenched teeth, Caitlin unwilling for her neighbours to hear.

Vibe smiles against her, the most delightful noises leaving her lips, full of want and desire and it's for him, all for him. It's only when she moans shift, when her pleas ask for him to stop, please stop she can't handle anything more, that he does, pressing kisses against her inner thigh before leaning back, goggles shining in the kitchen light. He looks _a mess_ , mouth wet and smirking. She offers to help him with his own issue, her eyes dropping to the straining bulge in his pants, but he shakes his head, drawing himself to a standing position. He kisses her cheek, grinning as he smears her wetness against her skin, tongue licking it off as her breath hitches and eyes squeeze shut. It is a hoarse goodbye and she opens her eyes to watch him retreat, Vibe walking back to the window and into a breach in front of it.

She realises after he leaves that her dinner was destroyed, the sauce left on simmer for too long, the water evaporated and pasta ruined.

And she sighs, not for the first time, and wonders how she got into this mess.

* * *

He comes over infrequently, slipping into and out of her and her life easily.

She loves it.

(But she hates it more.)

* * *

Iris is an actual angel, she thinks, not for the first time. An angel sent from the heavens to save her whenever she was feeling crazy and lonely. And to bring her out of her shell.

Las Vegas as the destination for her bachelorette party was inspired, a weekend with their closest friends, the last time they would be together as unmarried people. It was wild and crazy and she lets loose for the first time in a long, long time. She drinks with her friends and dances with cute guys and they stagger back to their hotel early in the morning, giggling and smiling and their hearts the lightest it had ever been.

They sleep until noon and then a little more, Caitlin volunteering to drive Iris, Felicity, Linda and Jesse home, the others far more tired than she. Iris is the last to be dropped off, a drowsy goodbye and Eddie meets her by the car, chuckling as she regales the antics they got up to on the holiday.

And then she goes home.

Caitlin arrives at her apartment late at night, the drive long and weary and she had to lug her suitcase up the stairs because of issues with the elevator. Her senses are dulled as she slides the key into her door, yearning for the comfort of her bed and the blissful nothingness of sleep.

But the moment she enters her apartment the atmosphere different. Thick.

The window is open, her curtain is blowing. He's here.

She walks through the apartment, looking for his familiar form.

It is found in her living area, Vibe sitting on her couch, his mouth pinched, the glint of blue from his goggles making her unsettled. "Oh." Her voice is level. "You came by."

Tension radiates from him, and it doesn't frighten her, only serves to fan the irritation inside her. "Where did you go?" His voice is tight.

She stiffens at his accusation. "What do you mean?"

He gets up, stalking toward her still body. " _Where did you go_?"

"None of your business." Her eyes flash as he stops in front of her.

"The hell?!" he explodes. "Yes it is Caitlin."

"Oh," she laughs, hard and brittle, her eyes like knives toward him. And it such a shift in attitude, the good mood she had entering the room dissolved. "We are _not_ having this conversation."

"I thought you had died when you didn't come home for the weekend Caitlin." His voice is terse and the restrained anger has it shaking. "How the hell did you think I was going to react?" He sneers at her, and she can feel the contempt dripping off his syllables. "Would it have killed you tell me?"

And those words were the catalyst needed, Caitlin lashing out. She moves decisively, her index finger pressing against the planes of his torso. "Don't you - god, don't you even dare and try to claim the high road in this Vibe." She spits out his name as though it were a venomous insult, meant to hurt. "You're not my keeper or my husband - crap, I mean, you're not even my boyfriend. I'm just some chick you sleep with whenever you want to." There is acid in her tone, scorn and he doesn't recoil at the emotion in her voice, doesn't react at her accusation, at her depiction of their relationship. And she gets worked up, the build up of emotion the past few weeks finding an escape, and he is her outlet. She presses more firmly against him, Vibe taking a step back, Caitlin taking one forward.

"Caitlin -"

"No!" she shouts. "You do not have the right to talk. Not now. If you wanted to know where I was maybe you could ask? It's not like I hide anything from you. I mean, I don't know anything about you, but at least I have reasons. But what about you? What can you possibly know about me that isn't found on a google search." He doesn't jump when he feels the wall behind him, Caitlin eyeing him like a predator stalks their prey, their attacks designed to kill. "I mean - do you even care?"

He stays silent, and she thinks that maybe it's worse than him saying no.

"Screw you Vibe," she snarls at him, effectively pinning him against her wall. And he makes no move to stop her. They stand there, Caitlin unblinking, heaving from exertion, pupils dilated until they were all black, no warm brown visible. And in the darkness her eyes were fire, burning through him, and he is speechless. She'd question whether he was even paying attention, his face stone cold, but he is breathing just as heavily as she is, hand clenching by her side, as if holding back from touching her.

And she doesn't want him holding back. She wants him to react, to show what he really feels. She wants to break him.

Caitlin leans closer, revelling in the sharp hitch in his breath, his head pressing hard against the door behind him. But still he does nothing. And she tugs his earlobe with her teeth, Caitlin's hands rising up his chest, collecting the material of his shirt as she moves up. And she pulls it off, no resistance from Vibe as he stands there shirtless. And then she drags her nails down his torso, not strong enough to draw blood, but he does shudder at the sensation, puffs of breath coming a lot faster, especially as her fingers deftly unbutton his pants, tugging it roughly down. She sucks in a breath as she sees him semi-erect. And she spits on her hand, lathers it up before she grips him. "Come on," she hisses in his ear, teeth tugging at his earlobe. "Touch me."

And he breaks at her words.

His hand on her hip is bruising, the pulling of her hair borderline painful. It elicits a moan, Caitlin throwing her head back, her hand tightening against against his member. His hand slackens as she strokes him faster, teeth scraping across his adam's apple. She pulls away from his neck, grinning as she watches him come loose underneath her touch. He jerks against her hand, Vibe grunting softly, holding himself back, until he finally comes, spent on her hand and his stomach.

It fills her with pride, but he can't let it end like this. In a blink they've swapped places, the oxygen knocked from her lungs as she finds herself pressed against the wall. Her pants are at her ankles, underwear with them as she stands in front of him bare from the waist down. And he can smell her arousal and the musky scent is tantalising. He is rough as he swipes a finger between her legs, lifting his finger to her lips, urging her to suck on it. And she does, eyes on his face unblinking as she opens her mouth, her tongue swirling around his digit, moaning against him. He swears, slipping his finger from her mouth and pressing them against her centre, growling the words in her ear. "Damn it Caity, you're getting off on this aren't you?" And she can't find the words to deny it, can't find the ability to speak at all. And she doesn't know how to tell him he's wrong, that it's him she get's off on, his touch, his voice, his presence. Instead she groans against his skin, teeth biting down hard against his neck, nails raking down his chest. There is a trail of red left on his skin and his fingers slip into her entrance and curl inside her, Caitlin keening in response. Her hips jerk against his fingers, nails piercing his skin as she climbs, her insides burning hot. And then finally she falls, collapsing against him as she pulses around his fingers, pulling him deeper, whimpering as he continues to thrust in and out of her.

She is exhausted, and wordlessly is collected into his hands, Cisco shuffling as he carries her to the couch, her naked ass in his lap. He is barely sitting down before she curls up on herself, hiding her face from him. "Hey no," he whispers soothingly. "You shouldn't be ashamed. That was hot as hell." And he is surprised when she starts shaking, her sobs wracking her petite frame, the sound audible, even as she tries to hide it. "Caitlin," he starts cautiously, shocked as she breaks down in his arms. And he pulls her more firmly against his chest, the tears like acid against his skin, corrosive and burning him alive. He rubs small circles against the small of her back, whispers things in Spanish she had no hope of understanding. And he doesn't move a muscle, Vibe still as she lets out all the emotion inside her, the tears slowing down and eventually stopping. He clears his throat. "You okay?"

She nods at his question, unable to meet his gaze. "I shouldn't've screamed at you," she mumbles. "You were just concerned, I'm sorry." There is a pang in his chest as she sniffles, wiping away her tears with the back of her arm. "But I'm not sorry for what I said Vibe. I meant every word of it."

He knows not to say a word.

"It just - it sucks okay?" The laugh is humourless and the only small comfort he could take is that she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, the tip of her cold nose pressing against his neck. But it's empty, knowing she was in pain. "It's probably means nothing to you but I want to know you more and I can't. I want to move on, but I can't."

"What?" The word leaves him unbidden, slipping out softly. He can barely hear himself and, if she didn't feel the vibration through his chest, she would assume she made it up in her mind.

"Iris is already trying to set me up with one of Eddie's childhood friends at the wedding and Alice thinks we had this terrible break-up after you called in sick for me and wants me to have a rebound. And I can't Vibe, I can't even look at a guy and want him because all I want is you."

Her words should fill him with pride, but all he's left feeling hollow inside.

"I want you and I don't even know your name, I don't know anything about you. And it sounds crazy - " A wet laugh interrupts her, "it _is_ crazy, but there is just _something_ between us and I want to tell them about you and gossip about the incredible sex but I can't because then they'll want to meet you and check you out and how am I supposed to tell them who you are? Iris has been writing all about you for god's sake! Eddie is on a taskforce to hunt you down!" She takes a shaky breath, cuddles her hands against her chest. She is so small in his hold. Caitlin has to take a moment to rebuild whatever strength she had, a fragile defence system needed if she was going to continue. And she had to, she had been on the precipice for so long, holding these words in until she thought she would explode. And now she had the only hope she could have was to not be overwhelmed during the outpouring. "I'm lying to my friends about a relationship that doesn't even really exist. I mean god," she tries to discreetly wipe away her tears, but she fails. Because he was watching her, he could see the shine on her cheeks. But mainly because he could feel it against his skin. "I can't even contact you. Did you know there were days where I want to call you, want to hear your voice or find out how your day is or tell you if I had a crappy day." There is a shaky breath, but she pushes forward. "That there are days when I'm terrified for you, when I need to find out if your still alive and that I stay up sometimes frightened of what could have happened to you. There are nights where I dream you're lying in a ditch somewhere, that another criminal has gotten you, that you've died and I don't know. And I wake up panicked, needing to hear your voice, needing you to comfort me and tell me it's going to be okay. Because there are, but you can't call me because you don't know. Don't know that I hold my breath every time I turn on the news or see your name on the front page of the newspaper."

"Oh baby." He doesn't mean the words to come out, doesn't mean to interrupt her as she shows him her heart. But it is impossible to keep in. "I'm so sorry."

"You can come to me whenever you want to Vibe, but I can't with you." Her eyes are glassy and red rimmed and he wants to rid her of the pain. "And it's destroying me inside."

"I - I didn't know."

Her smile is broken. "Of course you didn't."

"Did -" He cuts himself up, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. "Did you want this to end? Because I can stop if you want." He didn't think it would be this hard to say the words, didn't think he would have to say them at all. "I won't kill you or hunt you down if that's what you're worried about. I'll let you be free."

She shakes her head and he exhales in relief, unaware he had been holding his breath. "I don't think I could ever be free of you," she reaches, thumb stroking his cheekbone, eyes darting over his face. But then her movements stop, Caitlin hesitating before dropping her hand back into her lap."I guess I just want too much, don't I?" She sounds despondent, resigned to a fate she doesn't deserve. Because she deserves so much more.

"It won't be a normal experience, dating me. I can't take you on dates out in public, or pick you up from work. And there will be nights when I don't contact you and when I'm angry at something I'll shut you out and I'm not a good person Caitlin." He says the last sentence guiltily, as though he were ashamed for it. "Are you sure you want that?"

There is a smile on her lips, it trembles, but it is there. " I don't mind," she shrugs at him. "I just want to know that this is real, that it isn't just sex."

He kisses her. It is as light as a feather, delicate and soft and if she wasn't there herself, feeling his lips on hers, if she didn't watch him lean forward and press his chapped one's against her own, she wouldn't believe it was happening. It breaks all too soon, Vibe resting his forehead on her own. "It isn't," he whispers against her lips. "It's more, it's so much more."

It only takes a slight tilt of her head to catch his lips in another kiss, this one more firm than the first. He can taste her tears, and he pushes further, desperate to have something other than her sorrow on his tongue and lips. She gives in to him, gives herself to him, sighing against him as she winds her arms around his neck.

He carries her to the bed, Vibe having kicked off his pants and boxers while they were sitting on the couch so he could move unhindered. Her hands are still around his neck, one of his arms supporting her back, the other under the crook of her knees. The door is closed but that means nothing to him. She watches him, bracing herself to be dropped in order to open it, but he simply steps through a breach in front of her door and emerges from one behind it, smiling at her amazement as she looks around, now in her bedroom.

He lays her gently on her bed, taking a moment to appreciate the sight, Caitlin splayed out, hair fanning around her, the woman looking up at him with bright eyes and an alluring smile. He starts at her ankle, kissing up her body until he reaches her mouth, sucking her bottom lip between his own.

It is different than before, the speed and urgency and desperation of their previous encounters missing in this case. There is a slowness, a tenderness that she finds herself craving more of, a sweetness that ruins her more than she expected.

He urges her up,Caitlin sitting up for long enough to slip her shirt over head, bra unclipped and thrown away before she relaxes against her mattress."You're so beautiful," he whispers against her skin.

She can feel him heavy and hot against her thigh, Vibe ready for another round. But he ignores his own need, his hand holding both her wrists above her head as she goes to touch him, playfully tsking her action before kissing away her complaints. He has a knee between her legs and a hand on her centre, rubbing against her clit, swallowing her moans as she bucked her hips against his hand, desperate for more contact.

Eyes that had fluttered closed without her realising are opened, Caitlin watching as the vision of Vibe over her clears, lines on his forehead and pursed lips as he tries to hold himself together.

She is bombarded with the intensity of her feelings, and it steals her breath, snatches any hope of control away from her. "I want to see you."

The words aren't supposed to slip out but they do and he stills at the sound of them. "What?" It is hoarse and confused, Vibe urging her on as though he didn't hear, didn't understand.

"Please." Her voice is so small, and there is no hiding the tremour in her tone.

He lets go of her wrists, pulls away from her centre and he moves away from her. It takes all her strength for her to not cry after him, to not sit up and reach for him to return. She almost takes the words back, is planning on what she could say. Apologies for pushing him too hard, too fast. But they remain lodged in her throat, Caitlin leaning up, watching him with wild eyes. He must sense her panic because he offers her a flickering smile, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Here, just wait a second." He rummages through her wardrobe, pulling out a scarf. She looks at him confused, realisation settling on her face as he pulls her up, winding it around her face lightly. "Do you trust me?"

It is a heavily laden question, full of complications and weight they never anticipated, not with the other. She answers without hesitation. "With my life." She shouldn't, she should be afraid of him, she should run away from him screaming, not to him, not pleading with him to stay.

But she isn't afraid of him.

He tightens the knot around her head, grinning at the lack of fear on her face. There is a thunk, a weight hitting her floor and she knows, knows he has taken it off, knows that he is bare before her, open and vulnerable and it has her heart thudding in her chest more than her own vulnerability. She lifts her hands, searching blindly for him. And she finds him, Vibe moving into her touch, watching her expression. She sucks in her lips between her teeth, bites it as her hands drift over his face, following the outline of it. And there is a gentleness in her touch, tracing over his cheekbones, over the crook of his nose. He blinks as she runs her hands over his eyes, lashes tickling her palm, a kiss pressed against it as it drifts lower over his face. "Vi-" She is cut off with his lips, Vibe moving her hands aside as he leans forward to steal a kiss. "Vibe," she whines softly.

It is a change, Caitlin denied her sight, but her other senses are heightened, a thrill running through her spine at the sensation. She can feel his eyelashes brush against her cheek, can run her fingers through his hair, unhindered by that stupid strap, the silky strands . There is an anticipation building inside her, unsure of what his next action would be and it has her gasping at his touch against her stomach, shock at the feeling. And he drifts his hands lower, slipping between her folds once more, a cry torn from her lips, muffled by his own. She breaks apart from him, a litany of curses and praises slipping from her lips as he moves in and out of her. But it isn't enough, not nearly enough.

"I need you." It is a trembling whisper, thick of emotions he couldn't understand.

"You have me." And he confesses far too much in those words, hopes that she wouldn't understand while being relieved they had come out into the open, no longer rattling around inside him.

"I need _you_." she emphasises, and he growls, kissing her once more, Caitlin mewling against his lips. He thinks that he could get addicted to that sound.

"Okay," he breathes. "Okay." He lets go of her, reaching into her bedside drawer from a condom. She doesn't question how he knows she has a packet prepared, only questions what takes him so long to put it on. But then she feels something pressing against her centre, and she bucks her hips up. He slides in slowly, eased by her lubrication. But then he is sheathed inside of her, Vibe groaning as she pulsates around him, clamping tight.

"Move. Please. Move." He does, driving deep into her, thrusting steadily, pushing her closer to the edge. And then she is convulsing around him, Caitlin arching into his chest as she comes. And for a person who is in darkness all she can see is white, flashes behind her eyelids as she comes, vaguely aware of his grunts, Vibe speeding up, his movements sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, sealing her lips in a kiss as he spends himself in the plastic.

He pulls out, and she feels empty inside watching as he walks off to throw it away.

"I'm going to go now." She nods as he presses a kiss on her forehead, slipping out of her room to grab his clothing. A gentle goodbye leaves her and Caitlin isn't sure if he catches the words. He doesn't return - she assumes he creates a breach and leaves to his own residence.

And he takes with him the warmth, Caitlin shivering in her bed, cold and alone.


	2. part ii

He is over her apartment a few nights later, Caitlin surprised at the knock on her window. He slips in with an easy smile on his face, taking a seat - _her_ seat - eating the spaghetti she had been in the middle of. She scoffs at his swagger, mock indignation on her face as he continues to eat her food, critiquing her techniques and offering advice. Caitlin rolls her eyes, padding into the kitchen to prepare herself a plate of spaghetti for herself, smiling to herself as he rambled on about his day and the general annoyance of the police. Not once mentioning that she had prepared enough food for two people that night.

(She had been hopeful, she admits. But gosh, was it worth it.)

She watches him with curious eyes, Vibe wordlessly picking up the phone that was beside his - _her_ \- plate, swiping through her apps and contacts. She knows he is typing something, Caitlin watching on amused as his face becomes serious for a moment before he slides her phone over to her. "That's my number." And the amusement vanishes from her face, shock taking its place. "If you ever are in an emergency or need help or just want to talk, call me." She nods slowly. "It's untraceable," he adds. "So don't think anyone can use it to find me."

She kisses him. And it startles him, the contact brief and chaste. But his heart doesn't recover, not for a long time afterwards.

"I'm sorry it took so long," he rushes out. "You didn't have a number because I didn't have a mobile. I got this for you. Everyone else has other methods of contacting me," his face darkens momentarily, disappearing as she cups his face in her hands. "Don't abuse it," he teases. "You know what they say about great power." At the look of confusion on her face his teasing expression disappears. "I'm going to ask you a question and if the answer is no I'm going to flip out okay?" She winces, already aware she'd disappoint. "Have you seen Spiderman Caity? _Any_ of them?"

She shakes her head, biting back a smile as he leans back in his chair, groaning as if in agony. "Sorry?"

"Oh it's fine," he replies, already up out of his seat and tugging her along. "Tonight we watch them all. And you'll tell me your favourite Spiderman and I'll tell you about all the reasons you're wrong if you don't say Tom Holland." She snorts in laughter, separating from him to prepare popcorn and grab some chocolate. Five minutes later she was snuggled into his side watching Tobey Maguire getting bitten, laughing at Vibe's commentary of the movie.

She falls asleep during one of Andrew Garfield's movies, Vibe sighing to himself, switching it off the television and carrying her to the bedroom. He lingers, watching her sleep, a smile on her face. She's beautiful, he thinks not for the first time. The moonlight shining on her face through the open curtains made his breath hitch, the glow angelic. And he brushes a lock from her face, smiling at himself as she smiles wider, her hot breath against his wrist.

He needs to leave. Now.

But he finds that he doesn't want to.

And that scares him more than most things do.

* * *

She does abuse the knowledge of his number, calling because she missed the sound of his voice, calling because she missed him, because something happened at work she needed to vent about. She'd hesitantly text him, never sure if he was on a mission, if her calling would distract him or kill.

But he never complained, not once.

More often than not he calls her back, a smile settling on his face as she rambles on about the events of the day, informing him of the developments in Iris' wedding. He nods, a smile spread across his lips at the stories, at her excitement for her best friend, the date nearing. He can hear the sadness in her voice, and he knows she is thinking of him, of their inability to be seen in public together. Caitlin may have accepted it as a condition of their relationship, but it was never going to be an easy road to travel and he hated hearing the effects of it on her.

There would also be times where she would call to tease him, to drive him to the point of distraction until all he could do was breach into her apartment, her bedroom. It was pure evil, sultry voice and filthy words, Caitlin telling him that she needs him, that she wants him, that she is wet thinking about him and what he should do to her. She offers suggestions, her breath becoming more shallow as they both think on what she is saying, the words flowing easily. And she would continue until he snaps, until he would touch her and hold her and enact her very wishes, leaving the pair of them content and satiated.

Vibe realises quickly that it's her way of bringing him back to her. Yes, she may be horny at times, but she was always so affectionate afterwards, pressing gentle kisses over his body, cuddling with him, asking about his day with genuine interest. She asks him to wait until she falls asleep, an easy request for a man who doesn't like leaving.

She misses him, more than his voice or his body. She misses his presence, misses his smile, misses quirks about him that he never realised he had. And so when she gives him a copy of her key, bashful as she stumbles over the explanation, just insistent that he should have a copy, he accepts it without a qualm.

The smile that lights up her face, that lights up the universe, is dazzling and he knows he would be using it more than she thought he would.

* * *

He likes it. Likes coming through her front door and not sneaking in through the side. It gives him a feeling of legitimacy, that they are legitimate. He knows he could create a portal to enter, she had questioned him on this point numerous times, laughing as he struggled to find an answer. It had started as a way to let her know he was in her house, the window a signal she subconsciously understood. And the key, symbolic as it was, gave him a sense of normalcy.

There is a warm glow around her door and he knows that she is inside, and the warm glow spreads to inside him at the thought of having her in his arms, having them together after a few nights apart. He whistles to himself, content with their relationship, slipping his key into her door, her name a song on his lips as he enters the cool apartment.

But he stills in his spot, the blare of the television unable to hide the sniffles and whimpers she was making.

"Caitlin." The cry is torn from his lips, Vibe finding himself before her instantly, dropping to his knees, his hands cradling her face. Tears wet his thumb pads, and it burns his skin like acid, a crying angel in front of him, a tub of melted ice cream in her lap. She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze instead focussed ahead at the TV blaring in the background. Vibe wipes away those tears with his fingers, the liquid smeared across her face. But he wipes so delicately, so gently, again and again, but to no avail, fresh tears welling up in her eyes, pouring out from the sides. There is nothing he can do and it tears him up inside. "Cait-" His voice cracks. "What's wrong?"

It is a heaving sob, and he can hear her tears, even in her breath. "He died Vibe. He -" She cuts herself off, hands shifting the ice-cream to her side, switching it for a pillow. And Caitlin squeezes it, the material pressed against her chest, pushed into itself tightly as she tries to work out her emotions. "He was alive and happy and now he's dead." Her wailing takes a turn for the worse, tears falling faster as she watches the screen. Vibe turns his head, watching as hunters slaughter a family of zombies, the pair of them dirty and sweaty and happy with their kill.

It is a gruesome sight, but it doesn't make sense. They had watched more heart wrenching movies together and while she was misty eyed, she had not once shed a tear.

"Okay," and Vibe moves the ice cream to her dining table, taking its spot beside her on the couch. She falls easily into his chest, crying until her throat was raw and eyes stung. She clung to him, hands fisting his now-soaked shirt, holding him, using him for strength she couldn't find in herself. And he relinquishes it willingly, his arm wrapping around her small frame, holding her to him as he whispered whatever words of comfort he could, his hand stroking her hair. "Talk to me Caity," he murmurs against the crown of her head, Vibe pressing a gentle kiss against her hair and his fingers rub soothing circles against the small of her back.

She hiccups a few times, still too distraught to answer him. And so he waits, humming softly, hoping that it will help her. And he holds her until the crying quietens, Caitlin forceful, but gentle, as she pulls away from his embrace.

"You're not crying because of the show, so who broke your heart?"

She sniffles, wiping her cheek with the back of her sleeve. "What are you talking about?"

"Caitlin," he says softly, warning. She sighs, pulling away from his chest to face him. But she can't meet his eyes, instead playing with the ends of his shirt, laughing softly to herself as she reads the pun on it.

"His name was Ronnie," she says eventually and he knows he isn't going to like how the story ends. "He was - well he was my fiance. But then he died -" She takes a shuddering breath before finishing. "Two years ago. Today." It is only then that she looks him in the face, Caitlin pretending to be okay, but the smile was as watery as her tears, and the anguish is palpable, written on her face, shining in her eyes. It leaves him feeling unsettled, leaving him feeling heartbroken. Leaves him wanting to take away her pain and protect her from the future.

(He ignores that feeling, scared to analyse why.)

"You still love him, huh?"

She shakes her head slowly, barely a movement side to side but it has the shards of his heart rising in hope, still broken for the woman beside him. "I don't. I mean, I do, a small part of me always will. But I'm not mourning anymore. I don't -" she huffs, in annoyance he realises. Annoyance with herself. The touch of his hand over her own is startling, the soft brush of his thumb pad against the back of her palm has her relaxing and she looks at his eyes. His goggles. And she wishes she could see them, wishes she could know how he looked at her.

"Talk to me Caity."

"There was a fire at work - not the centre, but STAR Labs, where I was before. He had run back in to make sure I was okay." She bites her lip, blinking repeatedly to keep the tears at bay. "I came out after he had gone back in and I didn't know he was looking for me. He didn't know I was out already and he never made it back." There is a rock in her throat, a boulder which scraped her skin every time she tried to swallow her saliva. It hurt, it hurt so much. "He umm, he died of smoke inhalation, suffered third degree burns because he wanted to save me. I killed him."

Her words startle him and his head jerks back. "No you didn't." It was a swift denial, Vibe shaking his head in disbelief.

Caitlin however, she averts her eyes, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she nods, resigned to bearing the guilt she has worn for so long. "But I did Vibe. He would have been out if it wasn't for me. Because I was late." She laughs, sharp and bitter and broken. "Guilt is a horrible thing. I killed the man I loved and I swore I wouldn't fall in love again after Ronnie. I swore it to myself and here I am." He is obtuse, intentionally so. Because he can't focus on her last few words, can't listen to the confession from her lips, can't read into her words. Because she needed him to be strong, she needed him and if he were to let them ring in his ears and mind and heart, if he were to pause and let them settle into his bones and tattoo themselves on his skin - he may never cope. And she needed him more than he needed himself.

"Did I ever tell you about Cynthia?" Her eyebrows furrow as she tried to recall the name. But it didn't sound familiar, not in the slightest. The locks of her hair move as she shakes her head. "I think the news called her Gypsy." Realisation dawns at the code name and he sighs, his heart heavy at the memory of her. "She was Gypsy to them, but she was Cynthia to me. We'd been dating for god knows how long and I had loved her, told myself as soon as I had enough money scraped together I'd propose." His head tilts down, unable to watch her expressions, unable to see the pity in her eyes. Instead he focusses on their hands, Caitlin having placed her other hand on top of his, her skin cool against his hot. "She died before I could. It was a robbery, bigger than normal because I was getting greedy. She was shot and she died and she never knew Caity." He swears lowly to himself, his hand squeezing tightly around her own. "She never knew. And she didn't even get a proper funeral." There is a haunted sound to his voice and it grips at her heart, clutches it and she knows then that she is at his mercy.

"Surely her family would have come forward…" She breaks off when he shakes his head, Vibe biting his lip and hiding his face from her.

"She wasn't from our world, came from something she called Earth-19. But she was so excited to find someone with the same powers and she stayed here, for me. She didn't exist here, didn't have any family, no one except me," He needs to wipe away his tears, can feel them falling, his goggles fogging up. "And she would have never been there if it wasn't for me. I convinced her to join me, I convinced her to become a criminal. She'd still be alive if it wasn't for me and that's something I gotta live with." His breath is wet and she doesn't need to see them to know he was crying. "So really, you didn't kill him Caitlin. Because I know what it's like to kill the person you love and that's not it."

He turns his back to her then, Vibe lifting up his goggles to wipe away his tears and clean the moisture building up on the lens. He jumps when slender arms wrap around his waist, a body pressed against his back, cheek resting against his shoulder blade. "Thank you." It could be said for multiple reasons, and he doesn't want any clarification, only wants her hands holding him, a reminder that he is allowed beautiful things in his life.

That he is allowed her.

"Come on," she whispers after a while, pulling away from him and getting up off the couch. He can hear her rummage around in the kitchen, before returning, her hand on his shoulder, turning him around. And she is there standing before him, ice cream in her hand and two spoons sticking out of it. "Ice cream and a movie. Your choice." She smiles at him, encouraging and sweet and he nods, plucking the container from her lap as she sits beside him, giving him the remote as he scrolls through her Netflix account.

The night is filled with laughter as he chooses a comedy, and his heart beats hard in his chest as she leans into him, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the laughter.

He thinks Cynthia would have liked her, thinks that she would be okay with her, with them.

He thinks she would be okay with him falling in love again.

* * *

Her day at work had been exhausting - it generally was, but it was a day more tiring than most, Caitlin longing for her couch, dreaming of putting up her feet and resting, take-away ordered to her door because honestly, the strength needed for cooking was something she didn't possess.

And so it is surprising when she opens the door, the delicious smell of cooking food wafting into her nostrils. She takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed as her mouth begins to wet, stomach rumbling as she craves whatever Vibe is cooking. She leans against her door, a smile on her lips as she remains there, the tensions of the day rolling off her back. "Are you going to enter or what?" The amusement in his tone causing her eyelids to lift.

She finds him instantly, Vibe spread out across the couch, flicking through her channels. And as if he knew she was watching him he turned to her, smirk on his lips as he said nothing at all. It doesn't scare her, the idea of her coming home to him, not as much as she thinks it should. Because she knows who he is, knows that he is still a criminal, knows that he has hurt some, killed others. But here, in her home, in his life, she doesn't think he could ever do that to her. Doesn't think he'd entertain the idea for a moment. She could only hope that his presence here would be a daily thing.

She clears her throat, redness tinting her cheeks as she catches her thoughts. "So, I smell dinner?"

The corners of his mouth pull up into a smile that lights up the room, Vibe jumping up from off the seat. "I thought I'd test out some of my mother's recipes." He runs off to the kitchen, grabbing the pot and bringing it to her table. She stifles a gasp when she catches sight of it, plates set out, a bottle of wine chilling in an ice basket. He hovers near a chair, a nervous expression on his face. "So, you hungry?" The nod in response is quick and sharp and she's surprised she didn't run to him, her cheeks aching from the smile on her face, so wide and bright and she tries to pull it back. She fails. He pulls the chair back for her, Caitlin sitting down, warm eyes looking up at him in thanks as he pushes it in before taking a seat himself. He is adjacent to her and she's thankful that he wasn't on the opposite side, that he was close enough to touch.

He serves her and then himself, Vibe waiting for her to eat before he could stomach the idea of doing it himself. And she gives him an encouraging smile before her first forkful. She moans at the taste, exquisite and divine, as if he had stolen it from the gods themselves and brought it down to earth for her to sample. There is no embarrassment in her reaction, not with his toothy grin, Vibe unable to quell the smile even as he started eating from his own plate. She finishes it quickly, sighing in contentment as she relaxes against the back of her seat. "Incredible," she sighs. "You've been hiding that recipe from me." she scowls playfully, easily broken by her smile.

He grins again, shoulders falling as if in relief. "There's dessert if you want." She lights up at the suggestion. "I didn't make it," he adds quickly. "But I did get ice cream." The eager nod leaves him laughing to himself, Vibe pushing the chair back as he goes to her freezer, pulling it out and getting the plates and cutlery. She moves to help him but stops when he holds his hand out to her, Caitlin humming in laughter as he carries it all back to the table, eyes lighting up at the cookies 'n cream flavoured ice cream - she _knew_ she didn't have that in stock yesterday. She makes no motion to move, indulging him as he feeds her the first spoonful.

"So," she starts teasingly. "Any reason for all of this?"

He straightens his posture, Vibe forcing his voice to remain steady. "Nah, not really. Just bored and thought I'd cook here. It's much better than my kitchen. Why?" His words dishearten her, but she knows she should have expected it.

"Oh, nothing." She doesn't want to push him, doesn't want to force the real answer from his mouth if he wasn't ready to admit the significance of the date.

Because it is their first anniversary, the first time she met him. The first time he saved her.

(He's been saving her ever since.)

His movements still the moment she touches his hand, lightly, slowly, Caitlin relishing in the softness of the skin, her heart clenching as she runs her fingers over scars and marks that would never heal. He is watching her, she can feel his gaze searing her soul even if she couldn't see it, his mouth hanging a little open.

A flood of emotion hits her, and she is washed away by its intensity, an earnestness taking over her heart and mouth. "Thank you Vibe." It is a hoarse whisper and she can only pray he understands the depth of emotion. There is a flicker of something across his face - well, the parts of it she could see and she feels as though she upset him somehow. "For everything." She leans forward, determined to not scare him. It is a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth, Caitlin lingering. And as she pulls away he turns his head, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, hand moving to cup the back of her head, to hold her to him as he drunk her in. She could taste the ice cream on his tongue, and while it was cold he still manages to scorch the inside of her with his mouth. Eventually he lets go, the angle awkward for the both of them to continue on.

She is sure she's a mess, but he smiles at her and she blushes. "Come on," he gets up, hand held out to her. She takes it without hesitation. "I'm sure there's a movie I can educate you on." The laughter in his voice was evident, Caitlin sticking her tongue at him even as she follows him to the couch. He puts on a movie, a classic he says with a confident smile, and she curls her feet up underneath her, leaning into him, letting the sound of his voice wash over her as he explains to her the genius behind the masterpiece.

Her eyes open without Caitlin realising she had closed them, Vibe nudging her awake with an amused expression on his face. "Sorry," she blushes. "Did I miss out on much?"

He laughs. "Nah, you just fell asleep." She slips her feet out from under her, stretching her arms and legs.

"Sorry," she apologises again. "It was a busy day at work. I'll stay awake I swear."

"Come on," and he pushes her gently to lie against the arm rest, Vibe picking up her feet and resting them in her lap. "You enjoy the movie, okay?" And she nods at his soft command, moaning as his fingers start to massage her feet, her toes curling at the sensation. He chuckles, his face still pointed toward the movie playing on the screen. So she turns her head to watch, trying to ignore the incredible sensation of Vibe rubbing small circles against the base of her foot, deepening the massage as he worked his way up her calf. And her eyelids began feeling heavy, Caitlin struggling to stay awake. And she tries, she had promised him after all…

She awakens long after he had left, the TV off and cold, the dishes washed and dried and put away. But she wakes up to the smell of him, his leather jacket thrown over her body like a blanket, Caitlin breathing deeply, sighing at the scent of his cologne and warmth.

And she couldn't help but wanting to wake up to his scent every morning.

* * *

She calls him the moment work finishes, Caitlin aware he was already at her house, complaining of boredom through a barrage of texts. She sighs fondly, her workmates sending quizzical glances her way as they hear the vibration of the texts on her desk.

And the moment they are done she is out the door, mobile by her ear, the dial tone in her ear as she waits for him to pick up. It rings twice, his cheery voice in her ear, Vibe venting about the latest television show he was watching, Caitlin seven episodes behind and only partially following the conversation.

"Are you home?" she asks casually.

He responds in the affirmative, telling her what he had prepared to dinner, Caitlin grumbling as a pang of hunger shots through her. He laughs at her complaints, smile spreading across his face.

But then she screams, shrill and panicked.

And he can hear the phone drop.

"Caitlin!" he roars, prepared dinner now abandoned as he portals to his own house, gloves slipped on his hands, armour on. "Where are you Caitlin?"

And he doesn't know if she can hear him but she does answer him, screaming at him the street location, a sob leaving her as she prays he can hear her. He can. He can also hear the man with her, a deep growl leaving him as she is told to shut up if she wants to live and see another day.

He portals to her, stepping out of it, catching sight of the man, three times larger than her in width and weight, more muscle than fat. She was trembling, arms around herself as she pleads for him to stop, to please stop.

Vibe steps on something, his heart sinking when he realises it was her bag, that she had listened to his advice from when they first met and yet she was here in the same scenario. He sees red when her attacker chuckles darkly at her words, ignoring them as he approaches, leaning too close. There is a knife in his hand, the man dragging the flat edge of the blade across the angles of her face before sliding down her neck and to her chest, the sharp point tearing the top of her shirt.

He thinks she whimpers his name, calling for him in her time of need. And then he knows it, Caitlin screaming now, panic and fear entwined in her call, shrill and desperate and she loses hope.

"Hey," he snaps, making his presence known. There is a barely controlled rage in the word and h grits his teeth trying to hold himself back. The man stops, shock on his face as he sees who had come to save the woman.

"Oh," and there is that chuckle again, it grates upon his nerves. "You saw him and hoped he'd help. Well sweetie," he turns his back on Vibe, facing Caitlin instead, more relaxed than he had been before. "He won't save you. He won't even care." The smirk is disgusting. "He never has before."

It is the last thing he says before finding himself blasted ten metres away.

Vibe almost forgets that Caitlin is there anymore, so blinded by anger that everything blurs away. He stalks toward the other man, Vibe cracking his knuckles, a chuckle of his own. "So," he starts, almost conversationally. "Are you ready to die?"

There is another blast, smaller. The brute flinches, and Vibe revels in the fear shining in his eyes. There is a swagger in his step, Vibe now a metre away. And he knows he should make sure the man is dead, is ready for it to happen.

But then he hears a whimper.

And he remembers what was most important,

Caitlin.

And suddenly, killing this guy isn't a priority anymore. He looks to the left, a shaky Caitlin still clinging to the wall behind her. The blast to the man is enough to knock him out, potentially kill. But Vibe is more focussed on sweeping Caitlin into his arms, the woman clinging to him as he creates a breach and steps through it.

They end up in the centre of her living room, Vibe still holding her tightly against him, afraid that she would fade away if he gave the the opportunity. His heart rate is hard and fast, and it is with great reluctance that he drops her legs and allows her to stand on her own. But she doesn't let go of him, doesn't even dream of it.

It is only then that he allows himself to feel the _fear_ of potentially losing her.

The world stops around them, Vibe with shaky hands cupping her face. He rests his forehead on hers, and their breath steadies, enjoying the presence of the other, letting it it soak into their bones. "I - I was so afraid Caitlin. God -" his voice cracks. And he pulls his face away, trembling hands tilting hers up so she could meet his gaze. "I don't think I could handle it, losing you." She cuts him off by kissing him, kisses him like he is the air she needs to breath, and she holds him tightly, as if letting go would have him slip through her fingers. It is all consuming, and he relinquishes any delusions of resistance. The air is filled with breathy moans and pleas, Caitlin deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth, canvassing the cavern, desperate to taste every inch. A strangled groan leaves his throat, Vibe kissing her back just as fiercely, one of his hands sliding to her back, holding her close. The idea that he may been denied this, that he may have turned on the news and heard of her murder, or had her call him - body bloodied and broken, trembling voice as she cries for him to pick her up - it haunts him and spurs him, Vibe's grip tight in her hair, tugging it. He thinks he should apologise, should loosen his hold, but Caitlin moans against his mouth whenever he tugs, electricity shooting through her system, the pain a reminder that she was still alive. And she was here, with him, that she had this opportunity to touch him, to run her hands over his naked skin if she so chooses, that she can feel his hair between her fingertips. That she can kiss him, that she can ride him, that she could lie underneath him, can curl up beside him.

That she still has him.

And that was the greatest source of pleasure.

They separate, Caitlin burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, lashes brushing against the exposed skin on his neck. "Bedroom," she manages, Vibe nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion. But they don't move, don't want to separate for enough time to get them to a bedroom. They instead stay still for a few minutes, choosing to bask in the moment, in the presence of the other.

Caitlin presses kisses, light and gentle from his chin and across his jawline. The deep and steady breathing from Vibe turns forceful, his jaw clenched as he tries to hold himself together when he's so close to flying apart. "Caitlin," he stutter out, the lady in question smiling as she continues on. "Cait-lin."

And he can't stand her teasing any longer, Vibe taking one step backward, Caitlin in his arms. It is a little disorientating, one second in her living room, the next in her bedroom, and he holds her close as she gets her bearings. It's incredible to do even that, Caitlin here and in his arms.

But then she isn't.

"Wait," she whispers, pushing him slightly, the door firm behind him. The steps backward are slow and deliberate, Caitlin not dropping his gaze, not for a single moment. She stops when she's over an arms length away, fire in her gaze as she pins him with a look. Vibe leans back against the door, seeks it as an anchor. And she reaches behind her, the zip of her dress coming down slowly as she drags it. It falls to the floor, Caitlin standing in her bra and underwear and heels.

The wood is cold underneath his fingers, Vibe digging them into the door as he tries to ground himself. He can't look away from her, can't move an inch as she stands before him. She is a angel, a goddess and she doesn't realise it.

She can't look away from him, eyes dark as she takes in his reaction. His breathing is laboured, restraint barely controllable, and it fills her with heat, a warmth burning low in her stomach, an ache in her centre.

The steps toward him are tantalisingly slow, Caitlin biting her bottom lip as she nears him, stopping mere centimetres away from him. He loses his armour, a plain black tee shirt worn underneath. And she reaches for it, Vibe stopping her from lifting it up, covering her hand with his own. And they lift it up together, Vibe letting go of one of her hands so they could discard it somewhere on the side, fingers interlacing as they can't bear to stay separated.

It was different, everything was different. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and she was suffocating in it, desperate for something to help her, to save her from the overwhelming feeling that was around her, pressing down until she was sure her legs would collapse from underneath her. She finds her saviour in Vibe, in his touch, so light, so gentle, sparks erupting across her skin.

"Vibe, please." She doesn't need to say more, not when she pulls back from him, dark eyes alluring as she walks backward, his hand still in hers. Caitlin drags him with her, the woman stopping when she feels her mattress behind her knees. And he lowers her down, Caitlin stepping out of her heels and adjusting herself so that she would be in the middle of the bed. He toes off his socks and shoes and follows her.

He leans over her, moving as she moves, not willing to extend the distance between themselves anymore than necessary. But still the contact between them is light and teasing and not at all enough for them. His hands are braced on each side of her head, Vibe leaning down, a hairbreadth between their faces.

It almost seems like a challenge between them, a question of who would break first.

There is no clear answer, something shifting between them, the pair falling off the precipice and into the unknown. All that was known was that they needed each other, needed to kiss each other, touch each other, see each other. It is like an explosion inside them, intense in its ferocity, consuming them both. And they give in, to the feeling, to each other, Caitlin dragging her nails down his back, Vibe's grip on her hips strong. And there may be marks, may be bruises left after tonight, but they would treasure each blemish, a reminder that she was alive, that she still had him, that he saved her, he would always save her. The desperate need they had dulled the pain, heightened the euphoria, the ecstasy of the moment. Breathing was secondary to their need to touch the other, to kiss the other, to see the other.

And kissing quickly becomes not enough for Caitlin, her body burning for Vibe. "Your pants," she orders and he chuckles against her, dark and delicious and full of unspoken promises.

"Of course." And he does remove them, along with his underwear, her gaze appreciative as it rakes down his body. "Like what you see?"

He leans into her, his arousal evident against her thigh. Caitlin separates her legs for him, accommodating his body and he can feel her warmth through the flimsy material between their bodies, Vibe thrusting against her clothed centre as she continues to kiss, to suck, to bite any piece of skin she could put her mouth on. She sighs his name, cries it out, _Vibe, Vibe, V i b e_.

He stops moving and Caitlin arches into him, desperate for more contact, driven more by primal instincts than conscious thought. "Vibe," she whines, her arms around his neck, trying to tug him down.

"Cisco," he grunts and she stops, confusion flickering across her face. "My name is Cisco," he clarifies and she kisses him, mouth sliding across his jaw, Caitlin sucking on his ear.

"Cisco," she says instead and he shudders at the sound, raspy and hoarse and he wants. "Cisco," she repeats, wet kisses down his neck, Caitlin pulling away to blow against it, a shiver sent down his spine at the sensation. "Cisco," she says again, because it is his name, because she knows his name and she can say it over and over and over.

She rolls them over, Caitlin straddling his hips, his erection pressed deliciously against her centre. But she ignores it, ignores the desperate urge to grind against him, to have him slip into her, and she settles down further down his thighs, leaning forward over him so she could press kisses across his body, his name, his real name, interspersed between each. She makes her way down his chest, nipping at his stomach, grinning as a litany of curse words leave him in a breath. She is able to play him like an instrument made for her fingers, Caitlin plucking at his heart strings, at his libido without effort. It leaves him taut, Cisco grabbing her sheets in his hands tightly, the need to slip his hands through her hair, to pull her back up to him, almost overwhelming. But then he feels her hot breath on his cock, Cisco looking down at her, mouth so close to where he wants it to be, her hair falling down like a curtain around her face, the tips brushing against his hips. He watches as he lowers her mouth over him, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the warm sensation. He can barely keep a grip on his control, gaze flicking back to her. But then she looks at him, and the vision before him, her kneeling over him, the feel of her mouth around him,

it is almost too much.

"No, no." It hurts to say that, Cisco pulling her back up his body, erection straining. "I won't last if you keep doing that Caity. Damn, I'm already so close, I just -" He cuts himself off, kissing her instead, desperate and messy and he isn't sure how he lived without her in his life. She melts against him, Caitlin vocal in her satisfaction, in her need for more. Eventually she breaks it off, shaky breaths filling her lungs as he leans up, Cisco kissing her neck, sucking the sensitive spot behind her ear, throaty moans filling the air as she feels heat flood her veins.

She pulls away from him, a shy look on her expression, and it endears her all the more to him. "Cisco." Her fingers glide through his hair, resting on the strap. And there is a question in her gaze. "Can I?"

He nods, his head tilted inward as she unclips the goggles, lifting them off his head, dropping them beside the bed. She can gaze on him unhindered, his face, his eyes. And they are so warm, burning and vulnerable. And she takes the time to memorise every feature, each freckle and line and eyelash. He looks so normal, so -

"Beautiful," she whispers and something flickers in his gaze. His eyes are so expressive she sucks in a breath and she forgets how to exhale for a moment, forgets anything but him. She searches his gaze, can do so for the first time since she met him, and she feels frozen in place at the intensity of it. A small part of her saddens at the realisation she had been denied this for so long. "You're so beautiful." It is a hallowed whisper, and they burn, consume her. And she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss on his forehead, on each of his eyes, the tip of his nose.

Their kiss is soft, gentle. And she feels as though all his walls had fallen down around them. He was no longer Vibe, but Cisco. And he was Vibe, but he is so much more than that. He is delicate in his touch, his hand spanning over her neck, holding her against him as he tilts his head, sucking on her bottom lip,eliciting a soft moan from her. His other hand skims down the side of her body, resting on her thigh, fiddling with the lace undergarment with his thumb.

Her heart swells inside her and everything is just too much, it's all too much. "Cisco," it is a strangled groan and he growls in her ear. But it only spurs her on, Caitlin repeating it over and over, because she can, because she loves it. Because she loves him. And he teases her back, rolling them so that she was on her back, a trail of fire up the inside of her thigh as his palm presses heavily against her, fingers light against her centre. She breaks of into a whimper, hip jerking at the sensation, seeking more friction.

And he gives it to her, slipping her panties down her legs, teasing her until she was completely wet. She stops him, breaking the kiss. His eyes on hers, unblinking, unwavering. It is Caitlin who reaches over blindly to her bedside table, but she can't find it and Cisco presses a quick kiss on her lips before moving, pulling the drawer open and tearing the pack open, slipping it on. But it is her hand on him, guiding him to her entrance, Caitlin sucking in a breath as he slips into her.

He normally is so vocal, they both are, but they can't find the words, unintelligible groans leaving their lips at the connection. He can't look away from her face, and her his, Cisco thrusting against her, Caitlin trying to meet each of them, mewling as he slips in deeper, a shudder of pleasure wracking through her body.

He moves in her slowly, her legs bracketing his waist, heels urging him onward. "I'm so close Caity," he chokes out.

"God, me too." And she can feel it building up inside her, Cisco steady and strong and his thumb presses against her clit. And then all she can see is stars, eyelids closing as she comes around him, a scream torn from her lips. He buries his head on the crook of his neck, mouth sucking hard on her neck. His thrusting is more sloppy and uncontrolled, but goodness, he feels amazing. And she regrets not seeing his face when he does, Cisco stiffening, her name on his lips as he releases inside the condom.

He collapses beside her, his face buried in the hollow of her neck. She purrs at the sensation, his breath hot on her skin, Cisco kissing her shoulder. He pulls away, Caitlin turning to him, watching as he slips out of the bed. And he leans over, a quick kiss on her lips, almost apologetic as he slinks into her bathroom to clean up. He opens the door to her waiting by the door, sliding in as he comes out.

She isn't sure what would happen when she leaves the bathroom, isn't sure whether he'd be napping on her bed, whether he'd put his clothes on, a portal waiting to transport him home. And her heart stutters at the idea. She finds him underneath her blankets, Cisco pulling it back for her, a grateful smile on her lips as she lays down, his arm pulling them over herself. And he drops it softly, hand lingering on her stomach, pressing against her, pulling her to him.

He nuzzles against her and she loves the feeling of his eyelashes brushing against the exposed skin of her neck, loves that there is no cold glass against her skin anymore, no straps that were rough and unpleasant. There was just Cisco. And there is a peace that settles in her, Caitlin sliding her hand over his, interlocking their fingers as he continues to stroke the bare skin of her stomach. "Please stay." It was soft, whispered into the air. And his hand stops moving.

He hadn't stayed the whole night before, always disappearing before she would awake, before she would even fall asleep. It used to scare him, the commitment. But he was already so committed to her, had been before he ever realised that it was possible, this arbitrary measure of commitment lost on him now. And staying the night didn't seem so scary anymore. Not when he felt the fear of losing her.

"Of course," he murmurs, Cisco's eyes closing.

And they fall asleep holding each other.

(They would never want it any other way.)

* * *

She wakes up slowly, Caitlin stretching, a smile on her face as the sun shines through her open curtain. But she feels the weight pressing against her stomach, can feel the body pressed against her back.

And suddenly the day is brighter, her heart thundering insider her chest as the events of the previous night come flooding back. She turns in his hold, relishing in the feeling of their feet tangled together, in the warmth emitted from his body, Vibe - _Cisco_ \- mumbling in his sleep, his hand now on her back, pulling her closer to him. Her hands rest on his chest, the beating of his heart, the vibrations of his murmurs, she can feel them against her skin, can feel it travel through her. And she basks in his presence, not having the heart to wake him, instead taking the time to memorise everything about him. Her gaze flickers over his face, from his long lashes to his unruly locks, his hair in front of his face. The question stays in her mind, should she risk waking him? And she does, Caitlin brushing the hair away from his face, smiling as she could see him more clearly. And he was so open and exposed.

So beautiful.

He wakes up, sight bleary as he blinks, hand moving to rub his eyes. But then it skims over the naked back of a person and he panics, fear flaring in his eyes as he pulls away. But then he sees her, sees Caitlin lying on her chest, a warm smile directed at him and he relaxes, arm moving back around her body. The movement is quick, Cisco chuckling at her squeal of surprise, his arm pulling her against his chest, the man rolling onto his back, pulling her with him.

The laughter is contagious, Caitlin joining him. But it dies down and she rests her chin on his chest, eyes never leaving his face. "Good morning," she sing songs, a blush spreading across her face as his hands slide over her body, the extent of her nudity underneath his fingertips. "Did you sleep well?"

He shifts, drawing himself further down the bed, pulling her up until they were face to face. "The best," he murmurs against her lips before leaning upward, catching her lips in a kiss. She hums into his mouth. She can taste his morning breath and knows he could taste hers, but she doesn't care in that moment, her hand sliding up, tilting his head as she deepens the kiss, swallowing his groan.

It is a breathless laugh, her smile shining brighter than the sun when they pull away, and he pecks her lips once more. And he doesn't know why he had denied himself, denied both of them, this for so long, because it was a moment of perfection, a fairy tale ending that would never be written anywhere but instead etched onto his heart and seared in his mind. "What?" she says, averting her gaze.

But then his hand is on her chin, cupping the side of her face. And he marvels at how petite she was, how his hand spanned half her face, his fingers tangled in her hair. And she tilts her head, pressing a kiss on the inside of his wrist, eyes flickering to his at his sharp inhale. "You're so gorgeous," he whispers faintly, as though just watching her had taken all his energy and strength, that it deserved everything inside of him.

Her lips turn upward and she is left speechless. But then her stomach rumbles and she is reminded of the time. She slips out of the bed, much to his displeasure, Cisco making it very obvious where he thought she should be as he sits up in her bed. "I'll make up breakfast," she says, her naked frame walking around the room. It shuts his mouth up quickly, Cisco choosing to admire her, and he doesn't stop, doesn't think he ever will, when she picks up his shirt off the floor, slipping it over her head and disappearing out of her bedroom.

The grin on his face doesn't disappear with her, lasting long after she had gone to prepare breakfast. He collapses against her pillows and wonders about how he got her in his life.

* * *

He stays over more often than not, Caitlin coming home to Cisco lounging on her couch, wearing the most dorkiest of shirts. It steals the breath from her lungs sometimes, her door opening to see him with his glasses on the crook of his nose.

She steals them all, his glasses and his shirts, Cisco chasing her around her apartment as she pulls the former off his face and slides them on her own, running with them, laughing until it hurts. He catches up to her, spinning her around in his arms as she giggles. He quiets her with a kiss hello, and it has her heart fluttering in her chest. Her hands finding his face, holding her to him as she deepens it. "Hi." It is breathless, Caitlin looking through her lashes at him. She sniffs the air, a sweet smelling aroma floating to her nostril. "What are you cooking?"

He laughs. "Mama's recipes." She moans softly at his words. "I'm pretty sure you're only with me for the food," he jokes.

She winks at him, slipping out of his hold, waltzing to the kitchen. "I guarantee nothing."

It is then he realises he loves her, that he's in love with her, that he would be perfectly fine spending the rest of his life with her.

… He just isn't sure when to tell her.


End file.
